


Warmth

by TheCityLightShow



Series: Imagine Tony and Bucky Prompts [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCityLightShow/pseuds/TheCityLightShow
Summary: The day Bucky realises that the Winter Soldier is in love with Tony Stark, he nearly brains himself on the doorway between his room and the rest of Stevie’s floor.Because that’s the thing, he’s somehownotnoticed, despite sharing a headspace with him. It’s been a team-wide question since Bucky came in from the cold as to why the Soldier spends so much time with Stark, and even Bucky’s been unable to answer, though now he’s just unwilling.TheSoldieris in love withStark.He’s the sun,the Soldier thinks.How the hell is this Bucky’s life?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for [imaginetonyandbucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr!
> 
> The prompt was: _Imagine WS is in love with Tony but Bucky is not. No one has any idea why WS constantly spends time with Tony, no one but Bucky who does not want to admit that WS is capable of any emotion. Thanks to WS Bucky falls in love with Tony too. [Anon]_

The day Bucky realises that the Winter Soldier is in love with Tony Stark, he nearly brains himself on the doorway between his room and the rest of Stevie’s floor.

 

Because that’s the thing, he’s somehow _not_ noticed, despite sharing a headspace with him. It’s been a team-wide question since Bucky came in from the cold as to why the Soldier spends so much time with Stark, and even Bucky’s been unable to answer, though now he’s just unwilling.

The _Soldier_ is in love with _Stark_.

_He’s the sun,_ the Soldier thinks.

How the hell is this Bucky’s life?

 

“You okay, Buck?” Steve’s question drifts over from the kitchenette where Steve’s just about to leave for his run with Sam, and Bucky nods.

“Yeah-“ - _no_ \- “-just still a little tired, is all.” Bucky tells him, hoping to God he buys it. There’s only a moment of scrutiny, and Steve’s nodding in acquisition.

“Rough night?” he asks, though they both know it wasn’t – Bucky’s truly rough nights involve a lot of screaming – and in fact, when Bucky thinks about it he didn’t dream at all.  Bucky only shakes his head in answer, and within moments, Steve’s given his shoulder a gentle squeeze and gone. Bucky stands and watches the doorway for a moment, and lets his smile grow wistful. He’ll never tell him, not in a million lifetimes, but Bucky misses _his_ Stevie. The one who was as small as he was itching for a fight, could fit right under Bucky’s arm like he was coming home. There’s glimpses of him sometimes, when this new Steve forgets to duck, or seems wholly quite surprised to receive any kind of compliment, but the whole thing is jarring.

There’s a flicker of a thought then, of how maybe the Soldier’s got the right idea, maybe it’s time to move on from the past. Bucky clenches his fist against it, and when he looks down again to watch them uncurl, there’s only a flicker of red.

 

The Soldier is sat in Stark’s lab. Bucky’s watching this unfold reluctantly, though with none of the vicious reluctance he’d built up for so many years when kept in the back of his own mind. Stark’s fingers are dancing over the blue holo-screens, and he keeps up a constant stream of chatter between Jarvis, the bots and the Soldier that’s almost soothing on Bucky’s grated nerves. Bucky had given up trying to shove the Soldier aside and gain his control back somewhere around the time he became aware of the dull pain in his shoulder – the arm had been fucked up during battle, and Bucky realises a little belatedly that the Soldier’s keeping control so that Bucky can’t feel it.

He also can’t feel Stark’s fingers dance over the wires in the arm as he sets about repairing the damage, which makes the Soldier warm, gain a shadow of a smile. The sensation from the arm disappears entirely, and Bucky gives a giant mental shove, forcing the Soldier back in the corner. Stark glances up at him them, before deflating slightly around a bright smile.

“Almost done, Barnes.” Stark tells him, but the chatter’s gone. Bucky sits in silence while the arm is fixed, and finds he misses it.

 

Movie nights, it’s fairly standard for the Soldier to be in control. Bucky’s still not one hundred percent comfortable with having people or doors at his back when he can help it, and movie nights that’s somewhat unavoidable. Bucky’s used to watching films through the Soldier’s objective gaze, and he’s given up pushing it away because anything is better than icy panic creeping its way up his spine. He pauses in the elevator when the doors open, waiting for the Soldier to take control, but there’s a tiny mental shove and Bucky’s walking into movie night as himself. He’s suddenly greatly unsure, because the Soldier sits next to Stark, but Bucky doesn’t know if he’s welcome. Stark might’ve forgiven him for his parents, but that doesn’t mean he likes him. All at once, Bucky’s worried that Stark puts up with the Soldier’s puppy-love out of fear, while he’s simultaneously sure that Stark is in no way scared of the Soldier.

He takes a breath to steal himself and heads towards his usual place next to Stark on the couch. Stark’s already there, finishing up something on his tablet – jeez, the man never stops working, never stops doing things for SI and the team and for Shield as it rebuilds – and so Bucky pauses. It takes Stark a moment, but he looks up. He knows that it’s Bucky running the show, and that, Bucky realises, is what makes Stark deflate slightly. He prefers the Soldier to Bucky, and while Bucky doesn’t know what he did, he’s going to change that. “May I?” he asks, smiling softly and Stark just stares at him for a moment. Eventually he smiles, and shuffles sideways slightly so that Bucky will fit. Stark’s feet end up in his lap, and Bucky lets his hand rest on the genius’s ankles and doesn’t mind one bit.

 

Bucky would like to argue with himself, that if is someone such as the Soldier could fall in love with Stark, what did that say about him? It wasn’t a slow build thing – the Soldier was in love with Stark from day one, even though all the Soldier could’ve known about Stark is everything Bucky knew. Son of Howard, former Warmonger, playboy, arrogant, Iron Man. Except – and here’s the other thing he doesn’t want to admit – the Soldier isn’t a monster. The Soldier is somewhere between a robot and a small child, but he’s not a monster. He’s strangely perceptive too, and Bucky wasn’t the only one terrified and trapped in his body, watching the deaths of all those people and screaming for it to stop. Just as Bucky is learning to see, the Soldier might’ve always seen – right through Stark’s façade of confidence, to the eager-to-please and generous soul underneath.

In fact, the more Bucky thinks about it, he can see how the Soldier would love _Tony_. The little bits of casual care the genius throws out. Everyone on the team gets it, but it means more to ~~Bucky~~ the Soldier than it ever would to them, and god, how the Solider _craves_ it. Leftovers labelled for those who skipped the meal, little ‘go get em’ notes for when they’ve got to go do something they don’t want to, the light touches and hair ruffles. Tony’s kind to the point of breaking himself to make everything easier for anyone who isn’t him, and the Soldier’s never experienced kindness before. Of _course_ he’d follow the giver around like a puppy. That’s all it is.

Bucky’s not sure who he’s trying to convince anymore.

 

The Soldier doesn’t come out the next time someone scares the shit out of Bucky by accidentally sneaking up on him. Bucky actually braces himself for it, but all he gets is a prod to his consciousness and something that should be an eyeroll, but has no physical form to be so.

Bucky turns to find Tony frozen and waiting cautiously, and god, Bucky’s heart flutters at the sight of fluffy-haired, oil -streaked Tony, even at 4am when his memories are raging a war in his head, the red on his hands won’t flicker and die, and he feels like he’s dead on his feet.

“Soldier?” Tony asks, confused because he already knows the answer is-

“Bucky.” Bucky tells him, and Tony watches him a moment longer before shrugging and sitting himself at the table, making grabby hands for the coffee. Bucky delights internally that he doesn’t seem slightly deflated like he would’ve a month or so ago, and humours him with a smile, filling Tony’s mug before his own. Tony takes it like Bucky just handed him the nectar of the gods, and hums happily around his first sip.

“Sorry for startling you.” Tony tells him eventually, and Bucky just gives a shrug.

“It happens, doll, I’m used to it.” Bucky freezes when he realises what he’s just said – not the admission to being easily startled, _everybody_ knows _that_ , but the endearment. For a moment, Bucky prays that Tony didn’t notice, but the Soldier’s presence has gone warm and happy like it does when Tony’s smiling, and- yup, there it is. It’s not that shit-eating grin that means Bucky’s even more of a goner than he already was, though. No, this smile is small and tentative, there’s no teeth to it, and it’s… Tony looks a touch confused.

“Doll?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry, it just- slipped out.” Bucky mutters, pulling his mug closer and ignoring the eye-rolling sensation from the Soldier. There might even be a facepalm in there somewhere, and Bucky wonders if the kid-like thing picked that up from Natalia or Stevie. If anything, Tony deflates at that response, and the Soldier’s not the only one who goes cold and sad at that. “But it suits you.” Bucky says, and Tony’s just frowning at him now. Apparently, Bucky can’t win at four in the morning.

“I’m not one of your 40s dames, Barnes.” Tony’s scowling at him now, making the Soldier nudge Bucky’s consciousness insistently like he’s begging him to fix it, and Bucky’s shaking his head before he’s finished talking – partially because he’s wrong and partially because it makes his hair fall from behind his ears and hide his face a little.

“Not what I mean, Tony, not at all.” Bucky tells him, but the scowl barely shifts.

“Then what _do_ you mean?” he asks, and Bucky’s not entirely sure what he’s meant to say.

“It’s just- a term of- uh- friendship.” Bucky tries, wincing internally at how it comes out. “Y’know. A nickname, I guess.” Tony’s still scowling, but it’s not as bad, and the Soldier’s less insistent with his nudging (though it’s going to give Bucky a headache if he doesn’t cut it out).

“A nickname.” Tony repeats slowly, and Bucky waits for his decision to be insulted or not with bated breath. After a long moment, he shrugs, and sips his coffee again. “Whatever you say, cupcake.” Bucky feels like he’s dodged a bullet there, and the Soldier _melts_ into a puddle of gooey warmth that makes Bucky sated and sleepy when Tony grins around the word ‘cupcake’, proud of himself. It even lasts when Tony stands, mug in hands, and gives a tiny salute. “Sleep well, Winter Cupcake,” and then he’s gone into the elevator. The warmth is still there though the genius is gone, and settles somewhere in Bucky’s chest as he makes his way back to his own room, feeling like he might actually be able to sleep now.

 

It takes time to undo his own grave-digging, but Bucky’s pleased with it. Tony could never assume Bucky doesn’t like him now, he’s certain, and Bucky – alongside the Soldier – rather enjoys taking care of Tony. Soon, it doesn’t even feel like effort to make extra sandwiches at lunch to take down for him, or to make more coffee, or to read through the textbooks trying to catch him up with a little more attentiveness because he wants to _understand_ what Tony’s saying, not just smile at the words as they wash over him. The workshop becomes somewhere he likes to hide and somewhere he’s welcome to, and Tony smiles each and every time.

Once, in a fit of Soldier nudged confidence, Bucky tries adding little casual touches to the friendship they’re building, but the only thing Tony allows is an arm around his shoulders post-battle, or when they’re on the couch. Tony might feel safe enough to fall asleep on him – and Bucky’s personal space is all Tony’s now – but everything between them is strictly platonic is. It makes the Soldier’s presence like a disappointed weight, and a part of Bucky aches for something more, but the rest of him will take what he can get. If friendship is all he’s good enough to earn from this man, it’s still more than he deserves.

 

The Soldier does come out, however, when Tony gets hurt in battle. Bucky’s almost thankful for it, because the Soldier might be a panicky child internally, but the robotic outer demeanour is better for dealing with this, and _mother of God, there’s so much **blood-**_

Bucky’s consciousness is pawing against the Soldier’s, he knows it is, but it’s like they’re sharing the headspace for once instead of shoving the other out, and the Soldier’s objective view that the injury is ‘ _not as bad as it looks’_ as he lifts the genius from his battered suit is helping slightly, but Bucky is fairly certain that it’s him who’s doing the talking right now.

“C’mon doll, you gotta stay with me, okay?” Bucky cradles Tony to his chest, and picks his way over the rubble. Steve’s already said – over the comm’s where Bucky’s not really paying attention and the Soldier only deemed it relevant to note because Tony will care – that he’ll collect the suit, now just dead weight- “C’mon honey, you mean too much to us.” He’s begging, and he might even be crying, but it’s- the Soldier’s never cried before.

Bucky and the Soldier reach the medical team ready to leave in the Quinjet in good time. The bleeding is slowing, and Tony’s not quite conscious, and Natalia is watching him weirdly, but they just carefully lay Tony down on the stretcher thing, and even brush the hair out of his face before he’s whisked away. They watch him go – Quinjet doors closed, and now up in the air – before even noting that Natalia has walked up to stand beside him and the battle is over.

“He’ll be okay.” Natalia tells him, and the Soldier knows that, firm beside Bucky in their shared headspace, if cold with the residual panic that’s still doing its best to choke Bucky. “Soldier?” she asks when he doesn’t respond – and Bucky turns to watch Steve lug the suit over the rubble when he speaks, voice cracking.

“I don’t know.” He replies after a moment, and a tear runs down his cheek without his permission because he almost _failed_ , and the Soldier was trained never to fail missions- Tony isn’t a mission, he’s a _choice_ \- that just makes it worse- their sun is _hurt-_

Natalia is staring at him in shock, though, and Steve carefully lays the suit in a clear patch by them – Clint will bring the Quinjet back for them – before looking between them in confusion. “Bucky?” Steve asks cautiously, and there’s a hesitation before the Soldier (and it’s definitely the Soldier now) shakes his head. He licks his lips and-

“Soldier.” He confirms, the tear forgotten and no more following it. Bucky feels his face go blank, and he leads the way silently onto the Quinjet when it returns, ignoring the red on his hands.

 

He doesn’t know if it’s the Soldier or himself who rips up the note _‘You got this Winter Cupcake!’_ in Tony’s left-handed handwriting while his arm’s in a sling a few days later – Bucky was meant to be going to group with Sam – but they agree that it’s undeserved. Bucky goes to storm off, but a nudge from the Soldier brings him scurrying back before anyone can see. The scraps of the note are swept up into his hand, and Bucky tucks them into his pocket because the Soldier’s right; it wouldn’t do to let Tony think his affections, even if only platonic, are unwanted. “God, I’m sorry…” he whispers, not quite sure who to or what for anymore.

 

Bucky’s pacing outside the workshop – it’s not the first time he’s done this since Tony came out of medical. Usually, ignoring the Soldier’s disappointment mingling with his own and their combined shame and heartache burning like a brand, he just leaves whatever snack or coffee he’s brought with him by the door and runs away to sulk again. He wishes Steve was wrong, but he is sulking, right there curled up with the Soldier pining and whimpering away in his head because sure they fucked up but this torture is new and _awful_ and Bucky misses their sun as much as the Soldier does. This time, though, Bucky’s pacing because Tony asked Bucky to come down in five minutes, and he’s certain that this is _it_. Finally, Tony will ask Bucky and the Soldier to leave, the team, the tower, New York, because they _failed_ and Bucky’s never got to keep anything he loves.

Jesus, the Soldier might not be a monster, but Bucky’s not looking forward to finding out how he throws the tantrum that will follow hot on the heels of heartbreak.

Right on the five minute mark the doors to the workshop open, and Bucky nearly falls into the Soldier’s facial patterns as he tries to compose himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets so Tony won’t see the flesh one shake, and mutters a thank you to Jarvis as he steps inside. The doors slide shut behind him, and Bucky is struck immediately by how oddly lifeless the workshop seems – the Soldier’s presence something like a lament at the lack of blue lights – and Tony spins on the chair to face him. His face is oddly blank, nothing but tiredness there, as he studies Bucky for a moment.

“Who am I talking to?” he asks eventually, and that… that just might be the first time someone hasn’t assumed one way or the other.

“Me.” Bucky settles on, after a moment. A smile ticks up the corner of Tony’s mouth, but it doesn’t stay, and Bucky’s never felt this nervous in his life.

“And that is?” Tony probes, and Bucky shrugs a shoulder.

“Some combination of both of us, I think. We’re bonding.” He says, not quite sure what makes him add the last part, but it’s no less true. He _is_ bonding with the Soldier. They’re less two distinct personalities with one set of jumbled memories and more two mindsets, two point of views of the same person now. The answer, intentional or not, makes Tony smile, and Bucky lets himself relax slightly.

“Some combination…” he muses. “So I’m talking to you, the Man Who Lives Now, the Phoenix From the Ashes, you just as you are, as you will be.” It doesn’t sound like a question, but Bucky nods and answers him anyway.

“As I am.” Bucky confirms, kinda liking the warm imagery of the phoenix metaphor. The Soldier hums a tiny bit of agreement, but the nerves are still there – and they rack up twelve notches when Tony stands up, and steps right into Bucky’s personal space. Bucky wants to scramble backwards – and the Soldier seems inclined to let him – but Tony’s eyes are warm and hopeful, and Bucky’s caught like a trap. “Tony?” he asks after a moment.

“Answer me this, Winter Cupcake,” Tony starts, smiling wider when Bucky relaxes automatically at the nickname, “was it the Man Who Lives Now who said I was too important?”

If Bucky hadn’t still been locked in Tony’s gaze, he might’ve missed how much Tony feels like he’s risking to ask that question, but he can see it now, like the Soldier’s been seeing all along. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words – a breath that’s full of coffee and oil and something that’s all _Tony_. His eyes are bright and soulful, like the sun through whiskey or something so equally soothing, hopeful and yet still teasing, and his smile is soft and warm and he’s the _sun_ , he’s all Bucky ever wants, ever wanted, will ever need, he’ll never be cold or alone again as long as Tony’s around because he’s magnificent and wonderful and-

Bucky’s speaking aloud, up until the moment Tony cuts him off.

With a kiss.

A really _good_ kiss.

It’s chaste but in no way tentative, and when Bucky gets with the program, tips his head to the side a little, it’s not even chaste. It’s languid and warm and Tony’s lips and tongue and hands burn against him, more heat and light and _happiness_ than Bucky or the Soldier ever thought they’d get. Bucky lets his hands drift down Tony’s back in a gentle caress, before he’s picking up the genius and sitting him on the desk. Tony doesn’t have to pull him down to kiss him now, but he pulls back as if to protest, so Bucky doesn’t let him. He kisses him again, an insistent press of lips, before he pulls back, just far enough and long enough to say “you’re _everything_ , Tony.”

Bucky feels like his very soul is singing with the warmth Tony kisses him with then and- oh god, Bucky pulls the brunet closer, tight against his chest as Tony goddamn _sucks on his tongue_. Bucky kisses him back, as good as he remembers how to, and they only stop when breathing becomes a thing they really ought to do.

“Everything, huh?” Tony asks breathlessly, and he’s smirking but there’s no tease in his eyes.

“Everything, _il mio sole_.” Bucky says, loving how Tony’s face lights up at the Italian, and proves Bucky’s point – the Soldier’s point, their point – entirely. Tony kisses him again, grinning too hard for it to be anything but Bucky’s grinning right back and-

“Ti amo, la mia luna.” Tony whispers, right against his lips, and Bucky knows the warmth in his chest is there to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to give me a prompt, send me an ask at my **[tumblr](http://thecitylightshow.tumblr.com/)** , and I'll get to it soon! And as always, please check out the blog, [imaginetonyandbucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/), there's some absolutely beautiful pieces of work over there that deserve everyone's support!


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